


Misfire

by Jaxopil



Category: Wild Kratts
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-06-16 00:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15424605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaxopil/pseuds/Jaxopil
Summary: It was the first time they had a run in with poachers, but Martin didn't think they would've shot his brother.





	1. Chapter 1

Martin instinctively covered his ears and ducked when he heard the first loud _BANG_ echo across the Savannah. The loud sound hurt his ears, and made them ring for seconds afterward. The second _BANG_ followed almost immediately after, only slightly muffled through his hands.

Poachers.

The two bachelor African elephants he and Chris were studying instantly got spooked from the loud gunshots, trumpeting and stomping the ground next to them. Martin stepped back several feet to give them space, looking around to make sure they weren't hurt and to find the source of the shots. Part of Martin was glad he didn't see any sign of the them, as he didn't have his creature power suit to deal with armed poachers. He was glad, as well, that the elephants appeared unharmed. They were endangered enough as it was.

His heart froze with fear when he heard a nearby sharp cry of pain shortly after the commotion started, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. _Chris_! He had been on the other side of the elephants, and Martin's first thought when he heard the shots was the elephants' safety; he had assumed his brother was safe. _Oh no, they must've accidentally shot him!_

“CHRIS!” Martin cried, scanning the ground through the elephants' legs for any sign of his brother. He didn't hear a response back, causing him to panic as his stomach twisted into a knot. “Chris, where are you?”

Martin breathed out a sigh of relief when he finally spotted Chris hunched over on his knees instead of laying dead, but his fear was quickly back when he saw his brother was clenching his shoulder, blood quickly seeping through his fingers and dripping onto the ground. It had barely been a minute since the first shot rang out, but already there was so much blood. His eyes were shut tight in pain as he breathed heavily through clenched teeth.

Dropping next to him, Martin placed his own hand against Chris' on his injured shoulder. Chris let out a hiss of air when he applied slight pressure to the wound. “You okay? What happened?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so,” Chris said, looking up at Martin with wide eyes. “Was I _shot?_ ”

“A couple poachers in the area,” Martin answered, giving a quick scan across the horizon for one last look for them, but didn't see anything. “I think they aimed for the elephants and missed.”

At least that's what Martin assumed. Or hoped. He didn't want to think about why they would possibly want to shoot one of them instead of a pair of male elephants that were normally so heavily killed.

“A-Are the elephants okay?”

“They're fine, just spooked,” Martin said, glancing back at the two elephants. They were still stomping around, and looked about ready to charge at any moment. “C'mon, we need to move back away from them. Think you can walk?”

“I-I think-” Chris shifted as he tried to stand up without the use of his arms, but fell back down with a gasp of pain when he shifted the wound accidentally.

Martin quickly weighed the options of potentially being trampled by two six ton elephants and any immediate dangers of dragging his injured brother, and decided he couldn't risk it with unpredictable scared creatures. “C'mon, we need to move.” Wrapping his arms around Chris' waist, he hoisted him up and half dragged, half carried him behind a large rock several yards away. They had moved just in time; the two elephants let out one last distressed trumpet before taking off where they just were.

“Whew, that was close,” Martin said, setting Chris back down so his back was propped up against the rock. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“N-No, it's fine,” Chris said with a shaky smile, although the pained grimace on his face said otherwise. “You had to do it bro.”

“Gotta keep you out of trouble, right?”

It was then Martin noticed what had happened to the other bullet, or what would have been. A thin line of blood ran down the side of Chris' head above his ear from a shallow graze where the bullet had traveled across, missing hitting him in the brain by mere inches. A chill ran down Martin's spine that made him feel weak as he realized just how close Chris had been to getting killed. The wound on his shoulder, however, was a more immediate threat.

Quickly reaching into his jacket pocket, Martin pulled out his creature pod and pushed the SOS button. Luckily the Tortuga wasn't far, only a few miles away, but they were in the middle of the African Savannah, and the nearest civilization that had a hospital was a good distance away.

“The crew should be here soon,” Martin informed, leaving the creature pod nearby in case they needed to call. “How does your arm feel?”

“It burns,” Chris panted. By now the blood had soaked down through most of the sleeve and the front of his jacket and had stained the front of his shorts. “A-And I can't really move my hand.” Looking down, Martin watched as Chris attempted to close his hand into a fist, but could only curl his fingers in slightly.

Martin attempted to hide his frown of worry for his brother's sake, but knew he was probably doing a poor attempt at doing so. While he knew the basics of first aid, having had to use it frequently on their creature adventures, he didn't know too much about gunshot wounds. This was the first time they had had to deal with something like this. Martin tried to think back to his college biology classes and remember all of the arteries and nerves that were in the human shoulder, and what might have been damaged.

Martin just hoped Jimmy would show up quickly with the Tortuga. He had to get Chris to a hospital, and soon.

“We need to cover and put pressure on it,” Martin said, gesturing to his brother's shoulder. He was bleeding faster than he would've liked, making him worry that the bullet had possibly hit an artery. “We can't let it keep bleeding out like this.”

They didn't have the first aid kit with them (Now that he thought about it, they had completely forgot about bringing it, being too excited to see the elephants), so he would have to use what they had. Tugging off his jacket to use as a makeshift binding, Martin gently pulled his brother towards him so he could wrap it when he was taken aback by the blood covering the rock Chris had been propped up against. Looking down, he saw there was blood running down Chris' back and, after shifting the fabric of the green jacket to get a better look, he saw a second hole on the other side of the first one, this one a bit larger.

“What's wrong?” Chris asked, picking up on his brother's uneasiness.

“Looks like the bullet went straight through,” Martin observed, trying to get a better look without jostling the wound too much.

“Is that a good thing?”

“I guess?” Martin said, unsure if it really was. Right now he wished he had Aviva here, she would know. “At least it's not stuck in you.”

He had heard, years ago, that having a bullet still in the wound was better because it plugged the wound and helped with the bleeding. Or was that about a knife?

“Alright, let's get this covered. This might hurt,” Martin warned. “I promise I'll be as quick as I can.”

Letting out a slow breath as if to prepare himself, Chris nodded his head for Martin to go ahead.

Chris immediately let out a low moan of pain as Martin wrestled the sleeve of the blue jacket around his shoulder and started to tie it tightly against the two wounds. The entire time Martin talked him through it, barely even noticing when Chris' good hand latched onto his arm for an anchor and dug his fingernails into his skin. With a grace of speed and gentleness, Martin had it pulled tight and tied around his shoulder, even though it felt like it took forever.

“That should hold it until the crew gets here,” Martin said, draping the rest of the jacket over Chris' frame and tugging it around him like a blanket. “Then Aviva can take a look at it.”

Martin took in his condition. His skin was pale, with a sheen of sweat covering his body. He was shaking, and Martin noticed Chris was repeatedly trying to clench and unclench his affected arm. Placing the back of his hand on his forehead, he noted worryingly that his skin felt cold and when he checked his pulse, it felt quick against his fingers. Martin worried Chris was going into shock, either from the blood loss, pain, or a combination of both. Wanting to play it safe just in case, he carefully lowered Chris to the ground, propping his knees up. He placed his hand on top of the now bandaged wound, keeping pressure on it.

Martin wasn't feeling too good either himself, and he had a feeling it was only because of adrenaline and Chris needing him that he hadn't fallen flat on his face from the stress. There had been a good chance they all could've died when the poachers fired (Hell, for a few agonizingly long seconds he thought Chris was dead), and now that he had a couple seconds to process what happened, he realized just how lucky they were to be alive.

“Martin,” Chris said quietly, and the older brother noted the slight tremor to his voice. “What...” He swallowed, taking a few breaths. “What if I can't use my hand again? What if I can't climb?”

“You're arm's gonna be fine,” Martin reassured him. “And if not, there's plenty of room for two swimming brothers!”

Martin's smile fell from his face as he saw his attempt to cheer Chris up backfired as the younger looked distraught. “Hey,” Martin said, placing his free hand on his shoulder in the crook of his neck. “We'll figure it out, alright? We always do. The Chris I know wouldn't let something like that stop him, if it even happens, and I won't let it. You hear me?”

“O-Okay...”

Glancing at the sky for a sign of the Tortuga, Martin wondered how much time had passed. It had to have been a while. Checking his creature pod, he saw the blinking paw print in the middle of the screen. Koki had responded to the SOS, but they should have been there by now. They sat quietly for several minutes, Martin occasionally scanning around for any sign of the Tortuga or the poachers.

“I don't feel good, bro,” Chris mumbled after a period of silence.

Martin shifted a little closer, placing a hand on his forehead. Chris' eyes looked unfocused, his pupils wide despite facing the midday sun. “Is it your arm?”

“Shoulder feels like it want'sa fall off n' I feel sick,” Chris said after a pause. Martin immediately picked up on the slight slur of his words, his brow furrowing in concern. “Can't feel my arm.”

Chris hadn't mentioned that before. How long had his arm been feeling numb? Martin wondered if it had happened during the initial shot, or if it had been when he had bound his shoulder. The elder brother suddenly felt guilty he might've caused more damage in his attempt to help, even though he knew it needed to be done.

“It's gonna be okay, bro,” Martin soothed, taking the other sleeve of the blue jacket and wiping away the sweat and blood that was on his face. “The crew'll be here soon, and we'll get you to a hospital. You're gonna be fine.”

Of course he'd be fine, right? Chris had bounced back from a lot worse injuries, including almost falling on his head from trees more than once. But Chris knew how to fall without hurting himself; surviving a gunshot wound seemed to be based entirely on luck.

Chris, however, seemed to be more concerned about being able to use his arm for climbing than the fact that he was bleeding out way too fast; Martin would be rolling his eyes if he wasn't currently worried sick about his brother's life.

Shifting his hand slightly to check on the wound, Martin noted with display the blood had already soaked through the blue material, and didn't seem close to slowing down. How much blood had Chris lost already? Glancing back to where everything first happened, Martin's gaze followed the trail of red towards the rock to the pool underneath them.

“Let's do a creature quiz,” Martin said suddenly, trying to distract the both of them. Chris looked about ready to nod off, and he needed to keep him awake. “What's the smallest wild cat in Africa?”

Chris blinked several times, taking longer than Martin liked to answer the question. Martin knew Chris knew the answer to the question, they had just spent time with them a couple weeks ago. “Uh... the Black-footed Cat?”

Martin was about to ask the next quiz question when he heard a familiar sound not far behind him. The Tortuga was here and not a minute too soon. _Thank God!_ He watched as the ship hovered for a few seconds before touching down, thankfully landing not too far from where they were.

Aviva came running out shortly after they landed, first aid kit in hand. “Sorry it took us so long,” she apologized. “We came across a couple poachers who were following some elephants that we had to deal with before they got them. What happened to you guys?”

 _So that's where the poachers went._ He briefly wondered if the whole thing had been some kind of elaborate distraction, or failed attempt to pick the brothers off. “We ran into them before you did,” Martin answered, nodding towards his brother laying on the ground. “They shot Chris in the shoulder. Went straight through.”

“Let's get him inside and get going,” Aviva said, motioning towards the Tortuga. “I think Koki's already pinpointing a hospital.” She glanced worryingly at the older brother, pointing out the blood on him. “Are you hurt too, Martin?”

“It's all his,” Martin said, waiving off her concern. Chris needed it more than he did at the moment. Sliding his hands underneath his back and knees, Martin lifted Chris and followed the inventor back into their ship. The younger brother mumbled something quietly, upset about something, but his words too incoherent for Martin to make sense of.

“Nearest hospital looks like it's about 30 miles north of here,” Koki said, pulling up coordinates on her computer screen as soon as she saw them enter. “If we redirect power towards the motor, we should be able to make it in just under 15 minutes. Jimmy?”

The redhead had been standing further away, looking almost afraid as he watched what was happening. “I'll plug them in now.”

Placing Chris on couple blankets they had already laid on the floor to guard against the cold metal, Aviva tucked another on top of him and knelt beside his head with a scanner. “His pulse and breathing are really fast, and his blood pressure's too low. If we don't hurry...”

Martin debated asking what Aviva meant by that, but deep down he already knew. He had seen Chris' condition quickly deteriorate before his eyes.

“Was Chris shot in the _head_ too?” Aviva asked in an alarmed voice, tilting his head to the side to get a better look. The small amount of blood had obscured the wound, making it look worse than it was.

“It's just a graze,” Martin informed. “Chris got real lucky with that one.”

Watching as Aviva checked him over, Martin sank to his knees on the other side of Chris, suddenly feeling weak. Checking himself over, he finally got a good look at himself for the first time since everything had happened. His hands had a slight tremor in them, which he guessed was from the stress and adrenaline running through his system. His clothes, he noticed, were covered in blood and most likely had to be thrown out, but at the moment he didn't care about them. Clothes were replaceable, brothers were not.

“You did good, MK.”

Martin jumped at the sound of Koki's voice behind him, and looked up to see her drape a blanket on his shoulders.

“Thanks, Koki.” Her smile was always infectious, and Martin found himself returning it. He pulled the blanket closer around himself. “I'm worried about him.”

“Chris is in good hands, Martin,” Koki reassured him, kneeling down next to him. “He's got you looking out for him.”

With a nod, Martin sat back and watched Aviva continue to tend to Chris. _Fifteen minutes_. Now all he could do is wait, and hope his Chris could make it long enough to get to the hospital. Taking his brother's hand in his own, Martin gave it a squeeze and willed him to hang on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt bad leaving this story where it was as a oneshot, so I decided to continue it into a three part fic. I hope you enjoy!

Jimmy had managed to get them to the hospital in barely over thirteen minutes, and they had just almost made it.

_Almost._

Chris' heart had given out right when they had landed the Tortuga. Luckily the medical team on standby managed to restart it within a few minutes, and then immediately took him back before Martin got a chance to say a few words to Chris. It didn't make Martin feel any better, however; if anything, it made him feel worse knowing how grave the situation really was.

He had felt like his own heart stopped while he watched them revive Chris. It wasn't a sight he'd be able to forget any time soon.

After that, Martin had changed into a clean set of clothes after Koki reminded him he was still wearing the bloodstained ones from earlier. No wonder he had been getting strange and worried looks from the rest of the waiting room when they walked in.

That now left him with nothing to do but _wait._

Martin stared down the door to the rest of the hospital with his arms crossed, bouncing his leg impatiently. He had already given an overview of what happened to the nurse, then processed Chris' IDs and filled out practically a book of paperwork since they were from out of the country shortly after arriving, but no one had given him any updates since then.

“It's been over two hours, Aviva,” Martin said, checking the time on his creature pod. Only seven minutes had passed since the last time he checked, making the time feel like it was dragging along. “Why's it taking so long?”

“I'm sure Chris is going to be fine,” Aviva reassured him, putting down the magazine she had been flipping through and turning to face the blond. “He took a pretty bad hit and lost a lot of blood. There could be internal damage they need to fix.”

He let out a frustrated sigh. Her words only made his stomach knot up in worry. “I know, it's just...” he trailed off as he remembered what had happened just hours ago, balling his hands into fists and pressing them against his head. “It was such a close call. I'm worried about Chris.”

“I know you are,” Koki said, who was sitting on the other side of him. “But Chris is strong. I've seen him bounce back from a fear of heights in less than a day. I'll bet you in less than a week he'll be getting on all our nerves wanting to go try out a new creature power.”

Martin already knew that if Chris did manage to survive all of this without major complications, it would be weeks before he'd allow him to return to creature adventuring. This time it was just too close of a call.

“ _And_ the local police already took the two poachers in custody,” Aviva added, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don't worry. It's a good thing it's taking a while, Martin. It means Chris is still alive and fighting.”

“Yeah, you're probably right.” He forced a smile, but in the back of his mind he felt doubt. Of course it was easy for the crew to say Chris was going to get better. They hadn't been there like he had, watching him quickly bleed out. They hadn't been there watching Chris desperately try and get his arm to work again. And they weren't there for those first few terrifying moments when Martin thought Chris had been shot dead.

Martin checked his creature pod again with a sigh. Four minutes. And he had thought time dragged while out earlier in the African Savannah.

Two time checks later Jimmy walked in, carrying a small bag of bagels and some drinks from the local market. Martin gratefully took the water, not realizing how thirsty he was until he downed half the bottle, but turned down the food despite the glares he received from the girls. Right now he felt too overwhelmed to even think about eating.

“I don't know why you don't want to eat,” Jimmy said, between a bite of his own bagel. “Eating always makes me feel better.”

Koki ended up forcing Martin to eat at least one bagel in the end, although it didn't do anything to ease the knot that was his stomach.

Hour three and eight time checks later, the local police stopped by to get a statement from the crew and update them on events so far. From what the two poachers had confessed, one bullet was meant for each of them in order to take them out and get to the elephants. But the first bullet hit was the one that only grazed Chris' head, and the second one was a misfire intended to hit Martin, but instead hit Chris again in the shoulder after the elephants got spooked.

Now not only was Martin feeling guilty about potentially paralyzing Chris' arm, he felt even worse that he could not have even spared what Chris had (and still is) gone through by taking his own bullet that was meant for him.

“You had no control over that and you know it,” Aviva scolded him before he even got a chance to say anything. “You guys shouldn't have been shot at in the first place. It's no one's fault but theirs.”

“But-”

“But nothing, MK,” Aviva continued. “If it wasn't for you, we probably wouldn't be here right now waiting. You saved Chris' life out there. I'm sure it won't be much longer.”

The waiting was starting to make him feel insane. Martin's anxiety only continued to rise when he started seeing families get called back for patients who had arrived after Chris. In the back of his mind, he knew they most likely only had minor ailments compared to his brother who had practically died, but that was hard to remember when he still hadn't gotten any word, good or bad.

Was no news really good news? The uncertainty was eating him alive.

* * *

“How's my brother?” Martin asked when they were finally able to visit Chris after just under four hours, unable to take his eyes off his brother who was thankfully still breathing and still had both arms. “Is he going to be okay?”

Chris looked uncomfortable, even while unconscious; his mouth was set in a deep frown and his forehead was creased despite the drugs they had most likely gave him. Someone had changed out his original dirty clothes, cleaned him up, and dressed him in a light blue hospital gown, which only made him look even paler than he already was. If it wasn't for the current situation, Martin would have found it funny Chris was, for once in his life, wearing his own signature color instead of green.

“It was touch and go there for a while. We just moved him from Post Op,” the Doctor (Belewa? He wasn't paying much attention when they introduced) explained. Martin glanced over at her as she spoke, but kept his gaze on Chris. “Mr. Kratt already lost a lot of blood when he arrived, and was deep in shock when we got him back to the surgical unit. He coded again during the operation, but we got his heart started again without a hitch.

“The bullet in his shoulder skimmed across his subclavian artery and snapped his clavicle in two from the impact, and the bone then compressed several nerves in his arm. Mr. Kratt's incredibly lucky the bullet wasn't any closer to that artery.”

Martin paled as the doctor explained what had happened. That was a lot of damage that came from such a small bullet. “How was the surgery?” he asked, wringing his hands together. Four hours was an awfully long time, especially without even getting an update that Chris was _in_ surgery.

“We were able to suture his artery to stop the bleeding, then we connected the bone back together. We'll keep Mr. Kratt monitored for any long term complications with his nervous system. He may experience some permanent weakness or numbness, or his arm could even be fully paralyzed, but it's too early to tell until we can test it. The hospital has a physical therapist on site that I can book for Mr. Kratt when he recovers.”

While Martin could not be thankful enough that Chris survived all of this, and would stand by his brother no matter what happened, he felt crushed that Chris could still potentially lose the use of his arm; after all, that was all Chris had been able to focus on the entire time. Climbing was his _life_ , something that meant a lot to him, and Martin knew Chris would be devastated if he wasn't able to climb and adventure anymore.

But, one thing was more important than anything else to Martin, and that was Chris' life itself.

“Chris is alive, that's all that matters,” Martin finally resolved. “We can figure something out later.”

“Of course,” Aviva agreed. “I'm sure I can come up with some kind of invention to help Chris, so you might still be able to go creature adventuring like usual. But like she said, we don't even know what's going to happen until it does.”

“His vital signs are still lower than I'd like, so we'll keep Mr. Kratt under close observation for the next several days while he heals,” Dr. Belewa continued. “Right now he's on IV for fluids and a blood transfusion to try and bring them back up.

“I'll have a nurse come back in an hour to check on him and give him another dose of painkillers,” Dr. Belewa said, handing Martin the call button. “If you need anything, just press this and someone will be here. Hopefully Mr. Kratt should be waking up sometime tomorrow.”

Once the doctor closed the door behind her, Martin sank down in the chair closest to the head of the bed. Now that he knew Chris was alive after several hours of _what if,_ it felt like a heavy weight was lifted off of his chest. He felt tired after everything they dealt with, although Martin already knew there would be no way he'd be able to get much sleep tonight.

“See? What did I tell you?” Koki said, sitting down in the chair next to him. “He'll be up and begging to get outta here before you know it. Chris is way too stubborn to stay down too long.”

Martin only hoped Chris kept with his usual habit of waking up early.

* * *

 If there was anything Martin could depend on, it was their dumb Kratt luck running out like usual.

“There's been a... complication.”

Martin's head sharply turned towards the doctor as soon as he heard her words, watching as she entered the room. “A Complication?” he hesitated, glancing over to look at Chris for a moment before facing her again with a frown. Hearing a doctor say something was wrong at four in the morning was definitely not good news. “What's going on? What's wrong with my brother?”

Dr. Belewa looked down at her clipboard, causing Martin to bite his lip in worry as he his mind whirled with every potential complication he could think of. What could have possibly gone wrong? The day before Martin thought Chris was going to be fine, and now he was worried all over again.

“The resident nurse advised me his wound got infected,” Dr. Belewa explained. “With these types of injuries, infections can be common, especially since this one is deep with two points of entry. We've been monitoring it for the past several hours, but unfortunately his latest blood work doesn't look good.”

Martin ran a nervous hand through his hair. Just as soon as he thought Chris was finally going to be okay, _this_ happens. “What do you mean? So is Chris going to be okay?” he questioned again, his mouth dry. “Is there anything you can give to help him? Like some medicine?”

“Right now he's on a strong antibiotic, but it's not working as quickly as we were hoping. With the injury so close to that artery, we're worried it could potentially spread to his bloodstream and become septic,” she continued. “And it's looking like it could be more of a matter of when instead of if. Unfortunately we're too small of a hospital for such specialized care, so we might need to have Mr. Kratt transported to a larger one that's equipped to handle his care if it comes to that.”

“Is there anything I can do to help Chris?” he asked. He felt helpless, unable to do anything except sit beside Chris and, again, _wait_.

“Just continue to be with him,” Dr. Belewa said. “I find that patients who are surrounded by friends and family seem to do better and are less stressed. I think they just have a way of knowing they're there with them.”

She didn't have to tell him twice.

“In the meantime we'll monitor his condition through the next couple days and see how it progresses. As soon as we find out if the infection spreads, we'll arrange for a transport. And Mr. Kratt?” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don't forget to take care of yourself too. You look like you could use some rest.”

Martin had probably a combined two hours of sleep total since he had been at the hospital, broken up into light naps when he didn't even realize he fell asleep. He hadn't checked himself in the mirror since yesterday morning, but he knew he had to be an awful sight to look at right now.

The rest of crew was currently back at the Tortuga sleeping, as only immediate family was allowed after hours, but Martin couldn't bring himself to leave Chris' side to catch up on his own.

“I will,” He said with a nod, even though he already knew it was most likely going to end up being a lie. He couldn't rest now, not when Chris needed him.

The door closed behind the doctor with a _click_ , leaving Martin alone with the sound of quiet beeping of the machines and his own thoughts. And he thought this whole situation couldn't get any worse. Being careful to avoid the IV line, Martin pulled Chris' good hand into his own and brought it to his forehead. His skin felt clammy from the already developing fever, and it was unnerving how limp his hand was in his grip.

Chris looked even more haggard than when he first saw him. Martin knew fighting the infection on top of healing such a major injury had to be taking a toll on his body. He squeezed tighter on his hand as if he could give his own strength to his brother by willpower alone.

Pulling out his creature pod, Martin dialed the number for the Tortuga. He had almost forgotten to let them know what was going on. “C'mon, pick up...” he muttered impatiently as he stared at the paw print in the middle of the screen.

“Martin? It's four in the morning,” Aviva answered after several rings, her voice sounding tired after just being woken up as she rubbed her eyes. Realization dawned on her seconds later, however, as she realized there could only be one reason _why_ he was calling at this hour. “What's going on? Did something happen to Chris?”

He suddenly felt guilty for waking her up, but at the moment he had to talk to someone about it. “Aviva, Chris, he's...he's got an infection,” Martin said as he suddenly choked up, running a hand down his face to calm himself. “The doctor said it's probably going to spread and they might have to move Chris to another hospital. I don't know what to _do_.”

“Oh, _poprecito._ Did she say it was going to happen for sure?” Aviva asked.

“She said it was looking more like when it was going to happen. The antibiotics aren't working, so I think they're already preparing for it. They're gonna keep an eye out in case it gets worse either way. I hope it doesn't, though.”

“I hope it doesn't either, for Chris' sake,” Aviva said, before her face suddenly grew determined and gave the elder Kratt a smile. “But don't worry Martin, Chris will pull through this, I know it. We all will, okay? We're the Wild Kratts! Koki, Jimmy and I'll be there seven AM sharp to see you guys. We can talk more about it then.

“And get some sleep, okay? You'll need it for tomorrow, and you look horrible. What do you think Chris would do if he saw you right now?”

Guess he was right about the way he looked. Martin went red from embarrassment; he'd have to take a shower before the crew showed up in the morning, otherwise he wouldn't hear the end of it from Koki. “Knowing Chris, he'd probably take a picture. You're right, I'll get some sleep. Thanks Aviva, see you guys in the morning,” Martin said, before ending the call.

Folding his arms on the bed, Martin rested his head on them as a pillow and resolved to at least try to get a couple of hours sleep before the rest of the crew showed up. After all, Aviva was right; he wasn't doing Chris any good if he wasn't rested enough to be there for his brother when he needed him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The darkest hour is always before dawn. The road to recovery can be a long one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented and left kudos for this fic. I'm proud of it and I'm glad you guys like it. But it's the last chapter so lets do this!

_Pain_.

That was all he could register the first time he woke. He was in agony, but he couldn't for the life of him remember just _why_ he hurt. Nor did he care that he couldn't remember, all his mind could focus on was the pain. He hurt all over. Inside, outside, and in places he didn't even know he had.

Was he dying? He chest burned as he struggled to take in air with each breath. It felt like he couldn't get enough and was suffocating.

And oh _God_ did it hurt, it felt like the pain was eating away at his mind, pulling everything from it and replacing it with pain, hurt, and agony. He was so consumed with it he could not formulate a complete thought as to even who he himself was. As far as he knew, he _was_ pain.

“Hang on just a little bit longer, okay Chris?”

The source of the voice sounded familiar, a name on the edge of his memory, but it was just out of his grasp. Whoever it was sounded distressed, and he found that it bothered him to be the reason why.

With the little strength he had he managed to open his eyes halfway, and saw a blurry figure of blue hovering above him. Their presence was strong and calming, and it eased his agitation simply by being next to them.

“You're going to be okay, bro,” the blue figure repeated, reaching forward. While he couldn't make out exactly what this person was doing, he suddenly felt a cool hand brush his hair back and rest on his forehead. It felt nice as he leaned into the touch. “You're really sick right now, so they're moving you so they can take better care of you. But it's gonna be okay, I'll be right here beside you, Chris.”

His strength was sapped, however, and he quickly fell into an uneasy black fog.

-

The second time he woke up (hours? Days? Weeks? He had no sense of time) he felt even worse than ever. His body still hurt like it was being dipped in boiling vinegar, and it felt beaten down after suffering in pain for so long. If he had thought he was miserable before, that was nothing compared to _now._ His mind was even more muddled as he struggled to comprehend what was going on, and his heart was racing in his constricted chest as he still struggled to breathe.

To make matters worse, a high pitched noise that he couldn't quite figure out started to ring through both of his ears, causing his head to pound. As he attempted to focus on what was going on around him, he started to feel uneasy. There were voices near him talking, although they were too distorted to make out what they were saying or who they were.

Suddenly he felt a heavy weight on his arms and legs pushing down on him, causing him to panic and fight against it. Finally able to open his eyes, he saw several blurry figures looking down and surrounding him, making him panic even more when he saw they were the ones pushing on him. His confused mind tried to process it. Why were they holding him down? Were they the reason he was in so much pain?

The noise hurting his ears grew even louder as the figures drew closer, before one voice stood out amongst the rest. “Just calm down Chris, they're only trying to help,” The blue figure he remembered from before said. “You're just going to hurt yourself if you keep fighting.”

As he tried to focus on the familiar voice, he felt himself grow weaker before the other figures finally let go. He only realized the high pitched sound in his ears was himself screaming until he felt the burn of sedatives running through his arm, and he was pushed back into the fog.

-

The pain was all consuming his body felt like it was on _fire._ Each beat of his heart each intake of breath radiated down in hot waves and his head was going to explode.

He didn't know where the pain ended and he began they were one and both the same oh God when was it going to end.

He felt desperate to cry, to scream, to tear himself apart just to get some relief to make the pain just go away but he was trapped, helpless except to suffer silently and alone.

His body was in agony his mind was in agony he wanted to _die_ he wanted it. To. _Stop_.

But the torment was relentless and the fire pulsed and flared and throbbed with each heartbeat and was he doomed to endure this for the rest of eternity? All he wanted was just a reprieve, he would do anything to have it just make it end, to make it stop but it never did.

Luckily the fire didn't last long, and he was out as quickly as he had awoken.

-

When he woke up for the third (or was it fourth now?) time, he noticed with relief that the pain was reduced to a duller ache that spread over his body. It was replaced, however, by an overwhelming hot feeling of nausea and exhaustion he could feel down to his bones.

Not to mention his mind was still too fuzzy to process much, but this time he found that he didn't really care that he couldn't remember.

“It's been five _days,_ Aviva! I don't... No, I feel like I'm losing my mind!”

The sudden voice startled him, loud against the quiet beeping that filled the room and clear enough to understand this time. It was the same person from before, sounding unaccountably close to tears, causing the same feeling of distress to return as well.

“I don't know what to do,” the voice continued, and he could hear what sounded like them pacing. “The doctor still doesn't know when he's gonna wake up and I can't even do anything except watch Chris suffer. He can't even breathe by himself, his whole body's just shut down.”

Was he the reason that person was upset? The thought was bothersome. He wanted to reach out to them but he was paralyzed, too weak to even open his eyes, much less move around.

“Chris started the new antibiotic this morning, they're hoping it'll be better at fighting the infection, but I just hope it works... No, no change yet. They upped his dose on the morphine too, so hopefully he's not in as much pain.”

He felt guilty for upsetting them so much, even though it wasn't his intention to have this happen on purpose. There wasn't anyone who did not want to be in this position more than himself. He could only remember bits and pieces of the past apparently five days, but the pain was a permanent scar on his mind he didn't want to go though again at all.

“Thanks guys, I'll keep you all posted if anything changes. See you tomorrow.”

By the time the person was finished the conversation, he was already starting to fall asleep, too worn down to try and keep fighting it. The last thing he felt was them pulling his hand into their own, but he was asleep before he could return the squeeze.

* * *

 

His brain felt clearer this time than it felt in a while. It still felt more sluggish than it should have been, but now he had the mental clarity to actually process who he was, even if he still couldn't remember much of what happened.

The pain that was spread across his entire body was now localized to a strong throbbing in his upper body and his head. His stomach was still twisted in nausea, and part of him wanted to throw up just to relieve it, although he knew it would only make it worse.

Slowly opening his eyes, it took several blinks to clear up his vision as he took in the room he was in. It was small and quiet, the only sound being the quiet beeping from before of what he guessed to be his monitors. He had several hookups and wires attached to him, making him wonder just what in the hell had happened.

“Chris! You're finally awake!”

He remembered that voice, in between his fractured memories of pain. _Martin._ Looking over, Chris saw him sitting in a chair near his head, tired but relieved. His brother looked much more haggard than the last time he remembered seeing him, and if he had the strength he would have laughed at the stubble on his face. Then Chris suddenly felt worried as he wondered if Martin had suffered like him as well.

“Mar'in,” Chris croaked, his throat hurting as he tried to talk. He coughed to try to clear out the hoarseness, but made his chest hurt in the process. “What happened?”

“You were pretty sick there for a while, bro,” Martin said. “You still are. How're you feeling?”

“Awful. I feel like I was trampled by elephants.”

Martin let out a small laugh. “Actually, I made sure that didn't happen,” he joked with a smile before it quickly dropped off his face. The uncharacteristically serious expression on his brother's face made him uneasy. “But really bro, you had us worried for a while. You were out for nine days.”

While Chris did not remember much other than the few times he had woken up, if he could even call it that, he didn't realize that much time had passed. No wonder he felt so weak.

“What about you? Are you okay?” Chris asked.

“Me? You know I can't be taken out that easily,” Martin said, the smile returning. “Other than my brother being in the hospital, I'm okay. If anything I should be worried about _you_ being okay.”

“I guess, I-”

Chris felt a strong wave of trepidation wash over him after he shifted to get comfortable and found he could not move his arm. Out of desperation he attempted to flex his fingers to make something happen, but they wouldn't move either. He couldn't _feel_ anything below his shoulder. Sudden pieces of memories hit his brain as he remembered the elephants, gunshots, and laying on the ground as he bled out.

“Chris?” Martin asked with alarm. “What's wrong?”

“My arm,” Chris said, looking up to Martin with horror as he continued to try and flex his fingers. He reached with his good hand to prod at the bandages on his shoulder, but Martin pulled his hand back. “What's going on? I can't feel my arm!”

“I know,” Martin said with an almost painful expression, gripping his hand tighter. “When you were shot there was a lot of internal damage. The doctor's hoping once the last of the swelling goes down you might get some feeling back. But...”

“But?” Chris pressed. He could hear the beeping of the machine getting faster as he started to panic.

“We don't know yet. You could get full feeling and movement back... Or you could be fully paralyzed. We won't know until it fully heals.”

Pulling his hand out of Martin's grasp, Chris closed his eyes as he tried to keep himself together. He knew, from what he could remember, that he was damn lucky to be alive, but he couldn't help but focus on what could happen to his arm. What did that mean for creature adventuring? Would the creature power suit still work with a useless limb?

Chris was the climbing brother, and so much of their footage and research depended on his ability to get to those spots no one else but him could to observe those creatures in their natural habitat.

“Hey,” Martin interrupted his thoughts, giving Chris a gentle jab to his side. “Don't worry so much right now dude, we'll figure it out. But right now you need to get some rest so you can get better. Sooner you do, sooner you can get out of here.”

Chris wanted to protest, tell Martin that he couldn't boss him around anymore, but he knew his brother was right. He wasn't awake for more than a few minutes, but he already felt drained.

* * *

 

Luckily bad Kratt luck always seemed to have a way to turn itself around. It took three more days for Chris' fever to finally break for good, and another five to finally have enough strength to sit up and start moving around. He practically had to learn to walk again after his illness sapped his entire body of energy and muscle strength.

Chris had been starting to believe the worst about his arm when he still couldn't move it after he started physical therapy. Until about three days ago, when Chris felt a light tingle running down his arm, and found he could ever so slightly twitch his fingers. Progress was slow, but every day he managed to get a little further, and that was good enough for him.

“I have good news, Mr. Kratt,” the doctor said as he finished his assessment. “Your last three blood tests have all come back normal. I would like to keep you under observation just to make sure the infection stays clear for a little bit longer, but I should be able to have your release papers signed by the end of this week.”

Martin had been right, Chris accepted stubbornly, that after just a couple days he would want to get out of the hospital as soon as possible. He'd give anything to get some fresh air, be back on the Tortuga, and have some of Jimmy's famous made from scratch waffles. Anything beat out a hospital food diet of jello and plain toast at this point.

“About time, too,” Koki remarked with an eye roll, although the smile on her face was genuine. “Having these two brothers cooped up has been driving me up the wall.”

“I'd say we're overdue for a vacation too,” Jimmy added. “The beach sure sounds nice right about now. Chillaxin' and napping under the sun.”

“As long as it's not here,” Chris muttered, but laughed along with them; he would be here today if it weren't for them. He looked back at the doctor with apprehension. “But everything looks good? What about the nerve test?”

“Those tests came back good too.” Chris let out the breath he was holding as he relaxed with relief. “As long as you don't strain yourself, I'm confident your shoulder will heal fine. Just keep up with the weekly physical therapy appointments after you're released and there shouldn't be any major long term complications.”

“See?” Martin said, playfully roughing up Chris' hair. “I told you we would figure it out. And we can put the research Aviva was doing for her invention towards rehabilitating animals in the wild who otherwise couldn't be released.”

“At least my invention got some use,” Aviva said. “I'm glad your arm is getting better, Chris.”

“Thanks guys, for everything,” Chris said. “You took down two dangerous poachers, and you saved my life. I really owe you guys one.”

“You don't have to thank us,” Martin replied. “Just- Don't go almost dying on us again bro, okay?”

Chris knew in a couple of days he would be back to annoying them to go outside, but he wouldn't trade his friends and family for the world.

 


End file.
